essays on the three prophets

ESSAYS ON THE THREE PROPHETS: Nonviolence, Murder and Forgiveness

Chaiwat Satha-Anand Professor of Political Science Thammasat University, Bangkok 10200, Thailand

Published by Dunedin Abrahamic Interfaith Group, University of Otago, Dunedin, New Zealand First printing: May 2011 Second printing: September 2014

ESSAYS ON THE THREE PROPHETS

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For Shuang-Huang, Angela and Haleema and a wonderful twenty-five years


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Table of Contents Introduction……………………………………5 Preface…………………………………………….7 Three Prophets’ Nonviolent Actions: Case Stories from the Lives of the Buddha, Jesus, and Muhammad……13 Reprinted from Chaiwat Satha-Anand and Michael True (eds.), The Frontiers of Nonviolence (Nonviolence Commission, International Peace Research Association, 2002), pp. 83-103.Permission obtained to reprint from Chaiwat Satha-Anand

The Prophets and the Murderers: Reenchanting Peace with Prophetic Paradigms……………………………………..38 Reprinted from Joseph A. Camilleri (ed.), Religion and Culture in Asia Pacific: Violence or Healing? (Pax Christi, 2001), pp. 104-112. Permission obtained to reprint from Joseph Camilleri


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Forgiveness in Southeast Asia: Political Necessity and Sacred Justifications…………….............................56 Reprinted from Global Change, Peace and Security (formerly Pacifica Review) Vol. 14:3 (October 2002) pp. 235-247 (2002) The Taylor and Francis Group has granted permission to re-print this article on the condition that full acknowledgement is made of the original source of publication and that the Journal’s web site is published. i.e. http://www.informaworld.com


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Introduction Our Dunedin Abrahamic Interfaith Group was formed in late 2001 in response to the tragic events of September 11th. Over the last ten years we have intentionally sought to bring together people of different faiths to build relationships of respect and bridges of understanding. We have intentionally adopted an educational peace focus. We arrange interfaith dialogues, visits to schools, and an annual peace lecture in association with the Otago University chaplaincy. Each year we alternate between a Jewish, a Christian and a Muslim peace lecturer, the idea being to give expression to the deep commitment of all three monotheistic faiths to peace in our world. All of our peace lectures to date can be accessed via our website, www.dunedininterfaith.net.nz. Last year our peace lecture was delivered by Professor Chaiwat Satha-Anand from Thailand. It was a delight for members of our interfaith group and wider community to host Professor Satha-Anand in Dunedin and to benefit from his profound experience, courage and wisdom in the area of peace research from the perspective of faith. As an interfaith group we are privileged now to be able to make Professor Chaiwat’s essays on Nonviolence, Murder and Forgiveness more widely available through the publication of this resource. The case stories presented in these three essays are sourced


6 directly from the lives and teaching of Buddha, Jesus and Muhammad. They provide us with fascinating insights into sacred teachings which can inspire us all to work together more intentionally for peace, healing and forgiveness at every level. May God guide us all in the paths of peace and may we more intentionally open our hearts and minds to learn from and value each others’ insights. Let there be respect for the earth. Peace for its people, love in our lives, Delight in the good, forgiveness of past wrongs, And from now on, a new start.

Rev. Greg Hughson Ecumenical Chaplain, Otago University and chairperson, Dunedin Abrahamic Interfaith Group April 2011


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Preface One of the fascinating questions Dominique Moisi raises in his recent book The Geopolitics of Emotion is: what combination of geography, history, religion and culture make Muslims so proud and so ashamed at the same time? 1 One could also venture with him and speculate that for some Christians, maybe it is both fear and hope, and for many Buddhists – longing and letting go? Importantly, he argues that one cannot fully understand the present time without trying to construe the ways in which emotions such as fear, humiliation and hope shape world politics, and that a clash of emotions between fear in “the West,” humiliation in the Muslim world, and hope in East Asia is going on. With his thesis as a point of departure, one might need to ask: in what ways do these feelings contribute to violence and nonviolence in the lives of those who believe in religions? Though dealing with three major religions of the world – Buddhism, Christianity and Islam, this small book does not try to deal with such a grand question. Nor is it a study in comparative religions on violence and nonviolence, a much more complex task involving profound understandings of the teachings, scriptures, 1

Dominique Moisi, The Geopolitics of Emotion: How Cultures of Fear, Humiliation and Hope Are Reshaping the World (New York: Anchor Books, 2010), p. 124.


8 commentaries on these world religions and their socio-historical contexts. It is, however, an attempt to look at these three major religions and try to derive lessons on nonviolence, violence and forgiveness from the stories in the lives of the three prophets – the Buddha, Jesus and Muhammad. It should first be noted that the three essays collected here in this small book were written at different times for different audiences and presented in three different continents – Asia, Australia and North America. The first essay, “Three Prophets’ Nonviolent Actions,” was originally a paper presented to peace researchers with special interest in the fields of nonviolent actions at the 1992 International Peace Research Association Conference held in Kyoto. The second essay, “The Prophets and the Murderers,” was shared with those interested in the question how religious and ethnic communities in AsiaPacific were coping with different kinds of conflict and animosities in Melbourne at a 2000 conference on “Religion and Culture in Asia Pacific: Violence or Healing?” organized by Pax Christi and the United Church of Australia and the International Movement for a Just World based in Malaysia. The third essay on “Forgiveness in Southeast Asia” was a keynote address given to social scientists and area specialists at the 17th Annual Berkeley Conference on Southeast Asian Studies, Center for Southeast Asian Studies, University of


9 California at Berkeley in 2000. Consequently, the three essays reflect the distinctive interests that occasioned them through different though related issues of nonviolence, violence and forgiveness. Only the third essay, written for area specialists, has a special reference to the geography where I come from – Southeast Asia. Yet, the emphasis is still about sacred justifications drawn from the three prophets’ lives which exist in that particular topography which would make forgiveness possible. There are at least two questions that need to be addressed: why these three topics of nonviolence, violence/murder and forgiveness? And why this particular method of telling stories from the lives of the three prophets? In trying to answer the first question, it might be instructive to look at the shape of things to come in the academic landscape. In 2011, there will at least be 15 books published in English on religions and violence, such as Jacob P. Dalton’s The Taming of the Demons: Violence and Liberation in Tibetan Buddhism (Yale University Press), James R. Lewis’ Violence and New Religious Movements (Oxford University Press), and David Martin’s The Future of Christianity: Reflections on Violence and Democracy, Religion and Secularisation (Ashgate), while there will be only one on religions and nonviolence: Amitabh Pal’s “Islam” Means Peace: Understanding the Muslim Principle of Nonviolence Today


10 (Praeger). By focusing on religions and nonviolence, dealing with murderers, and forgiveness, this book could be seen as an attempt to redress this glaring imbalance. But more importantly, the three essays deal with several related questions: what would the prophets’ nonviolent action look like and how do they work? Facing murderers in their times, what would they say or do to deal with these people? If violence has taken place, what would be the prophets’ ways of dealing with past action? How different are the teachings and practices of forgiveness learned from the lives of the three prophets? The essay on nonviolence is about successful nonviolent interventions by the three prophets. Because of the success of nonviolent conversion, an extremely rare nonviolent dynamics in itself, violence does not take place. But the two essays on murderers and forgiveness are about violence that has taken place and people who have already been responsible for violence, or about to be. Put another way, while the first essay is about how to prevent conflict from turning into violence, the second and third essays deal with two of the most difficult issues of our times: how to deal with people who had already committed atrocities in the past? And if all else failed – how does one live with past violence?


11 The method used here in this book is telling stories from the lives of the prophets. Why is telling stories important at this point in history? Perhaps because we live in an age where many of us have become more disenchanted with the world. When there seems to be very little to love or to care for, violence in its various manifestations – direct, structural and cultural – often results. If such is indeed the case, working for peace and nonviolence would have to involve an attempt to work towards a re-enchantment of the world. Some peace researchers believe that to do so requires, among other things, a return to the art of story-telling. 2 But the stories to be told in this book are both sacred and ordinary stories. They are sacred because they are taken from the lives of the three prophets of world religions with billions who believe in them. But they are also ordinary because these are humans who walked the earth and dealt with problems of violence. I would argue that it is this fantastic blend of the ordinary and the sacred that make these stories meaningful, because one could learn how to prevent conflict from turning into violence, to transform murderers, and to know how to forgive with the possibility of being re-enchanted with the world once again through the prophetic touches. 2

See for example, Ralph Summy, “Pedagogy of Peacemaking: A Nonviolence Narrative,” New Horizons in Education, no. 102 (June 2000), p. 42.


12 That this small book comes into being is itself a miracle. There are so many individuals who play some parts in making it possible. I wish to thank Profs Michael True of Assumption College, Joseph Camilleri of La Trobe University, Chandra Muzaffar of JUST, and Craig Reynolds of the University of Sydney for inviting me to write these essays and presented them in three cities around the world. I am also deeply grateful to Prof. Najib Lafraie of the Department of Politics at the University of Otago and Rev. Greg Hughson, coordinator of the Dunedin Abrahamic Interfaith Group, University of Otago, for inviting me to give the 2010 Dunedin Peace Lecture. Chaiwat Satha-Anand Bangkok, 21 October 2010


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Three Prophet’s Nonviolent Actions: Case Stories From the Lives of the Buddha, Jesus and Muhammad It seems that nonviolent actions have presently attracted public attention as never before in the recent past. Gene Sharp, one of the most systematic and persistent scholars of nonviolent actions, suggested in 1987 that the world was at the early stage of an expansion of historical significance in the use of nonviolent struggle. Although he pointed out that he could not prove it at the time and that it could be the result of expansive media coverage of events such as those in the Philippines, Eastern Europe and Russia, he was convinced that the expansion was real. 3 I am also convinced that nonviolence has attained a unique position at this juncture of history. The bloodshed in the streets of Bangkok in May 1992 could not overshadow the basically nonviolent character of the demonstrations which preceded the violent suppression of the unarmed people by the military. People who took to the streets went there carrying numerous placards, including ones with two words on them: “Ahimsa” (Gandhi’s nonviolence) and “Ahosi” 3

Gene Sharp, “Are We in a new Situation?,” Thinking About Nonviolent Struggle: Trends, Research, and Analysis (Cambridge, Massachusetts: The Albert Einstein Institution, 1990), p. 3.


14 (forgiveness). Now, more than ever, is the time for further studies and research on nonviolent actions for practical purposes. It goes without saying that academic pursuit exists in a social context which currently sees another extremely visible trend spreading at the global level. That trend is religious revivalism. Consider the place of Islam in Iranian politics, the Gulf war, Afghanistan’s cessation of civil war and Malaysian politics as examples. But Islam is by no means alone in its revitalized forms. Consider also the place of Christianity in the struggles of Northern Ireland, religious protests in Poland, Rumania and East Germany in the late 1980’s, 4 as well as the roles of Catholic priests in the Latin American struggle for social justice. 5 In the case of Buddhism, traces of religious revivalism can be identified from studying religious movements in contemporary Thailand. 6 These examples suggest that contrary to conventional understanding advanced by modernization theories, religion has again become a factor that cannot be ignored in serious social science research. 4

Bryan S. Turner, Religion and Social Theory, 2nd ed. (London: Sage Publications, 1991), p. xx. 5 See for example, Bishop Pedro Casaldaliga, Prophets in Combat, trans. and ed. Phillip Berryman (Quezon City: Claretian Publications, 1987). 6 See Suwanna Satha-Anand, “Religious Movements in Contemporary Thailand: Buddhist Struggles for Modern Relevance,” Asian Survey, vol. 30, no. 4 (April 1990), pp. 395-408.


15 This essay is an attempt to relink the studies of nonviolence with religions. But this will not be done by using the “way of life” argument, namely, nonviolence should be practiced as a way of life and the spiritual dimension needs to be present in every kind of nonviolent struggle. Instead, as a social scientist, I will examine the ways in which Gautama Buddha, Jesus, and Prophet Muhammad dealt with conflict situations in their times and successfully solved them with nonviolent actions. This essay will begin with a discussion of a rationale for studying the prophets’ nonviolent actions. Then criteria for case selection will be specified. Selected events in their lives will be described and the ways in which nonviolent actions worked for them will be analyzed. Finally, lessons learned and inspirations gained from the prophets’ nonviolent interventions will be outlined for the benefit of future research in the fields of nonviolence.

Why the Buddha, Jesus and Muhammad? The program on Nonviolent Sanctions in Conflict and Defense at Harvard University began its first seminar on the subject of nonviolence on October 19, 1983. In its first 9 years, the Harvard Program offered 96 seminars, 2 conferences, 4 roundtables, 3 workshops, 1 discussion and 1 lecture. In its distinguished history, 3 seminars stood out as different from the rest. One seminar dealt with Hitler and decision making in the Third Reich. The other


16 two seminars covered the ideas of three philosophers/theorists, Kant and Clausewitz in relation to a strategy of peace and La Boetie on the concepts of power and noncooperation. It is interesting to note that there has been no seminar on religious leaders’ contributions to non-violent sanctions. 7 This conspicuous absence of attention to religious leaders can be explained by the Program’s analytical choice to focus on nonviolent means of struggle which neither assumes nor precludes a particular set of motivating values and beliefs. 8 Although religious prophets’ actions will be discussed here, no particular set of values or beliefs will be assumed. In fact, if the major religions’ prophets are also considered social/political leaders from the ways by which their ideas have mobilized a large number of people across time and place to transform their social and spiritual realities, then to ignore them is perhaps to miss a wealth of socio-political guidelines which could be useful for furthering the theories and practices of nonviolence. There is also a political advantage in choosing to focus analytically on the prophet’s actions at a time when religious revivalism is 7

Transforming Struggle: Strategy and the Global Experience of Nonviolent Direct Action (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Program on Nonviolent Sanctions in Conflict and Defense, Center for International Affairs, Harvard University, 1992). 8 See Doug Bond, “Introduction,” ibid., p. 3.


17 spreading because those who are already interested in religions may pay more attention to nonviolence. It may naturally be more difficult for those who claim to be believers not to consider seriously nonviolent actions when examples are taken from the lives of the prophets they claim to believe in. Moreover, since religions can and are being used to justify violence 9, an emphasis on nonviolent actions of the prophets should serve as a critique of the destructive use of religions, as evident in some groups’ actions in Sri Lanka, Northern Ireland and the Middle East. By underscoring nonviolent actions of the Buddha, Jesus, and Muhammad, nonviolent alternatives will be strengthened especially in the minds of religious believers. Religion-related conflicts can perhaps be given a chance to be resolved positively and creatively without the use of violence. While the total number of believers of Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam is numerically significant, the fact that prophets of these three religions are selected does not in any way mean that others such as Maha Veera or Lao Tzu are unimportant. The scope of this essay is limited because time and space constrains do not permit a more comprehensive treatment of all the world’s prophets. In fact, it is not the totality of their lives that will be examined here either. One 9

Trevor Ling, Buddhism, Imperialism and War: Burma and Thailand in Modern History (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1979), p. 140.


18 case story will be selected from the life history of each prophet. Therefore, criteria used in selecting these cases need to be explained.

Criteria Used in Selecting Case Stories of the Three Prophets In the eyes of the believers, the Buddha, Jesus and Muhammad are more than ordinary human beings. For example, the Buddha can be considered a human being, a spiritual being as well as something in between the two. In fact, for many Buddhists the Buddha’s human body and historical existence appear like “a few rags thrown over the spiritual glory.” 10 Christians the world over recite prayers every week affirming that Jesus is the Son of God and that all things in the universe are made through him. This is called the Nicene Creed which stipulates that Jesus has been both fully human and fully divine. 11 From the Muslim point of view, Muhammad is the symbol of perfection of both the human person and human society. He is also the prototype of the human individual and human collectivity. Within the Islamic mystical circle, he is considered the symbol of return to the Origin and

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Edward Conze, Buddhism: Its Essence and Development (New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1975), pp. 34-38. The quotation is on page 38. 11 See Ian Wilson, Jesus: The Evidence (London and Sydney: Pan Books, 1985), p. 11.


19 reawakening to the eternal realities. 12 It would be both naïve and disrespectful to deny the transhistorical cum transcendental essence of these prophets. But despite their unusual spiritual qualities, the fact that they are also human beings should not be ignored. I will not venture into theological labyrinths of their complex existence here. Instead, I will focus on their actions as human beings so that their examples will not be considered exceptions and render futile whatever lessons can be learned from their lives. The Buddha left this world when he was 80, Muhammad returned to Allah at the age of 63, and Jesus was crucified when he was only 33 years old. These three prophets’ lives, though rich and complex, are generally well documented. It is difficult, however, to reach into each one’s full and noble life and select a specific case to be examined from a nonviolent perspective. A set of criteria is therefore needed. First, the prophets need to have acted as a third party, intervening in cases of conflict which they were not directly involved in nor directly affected. It is therefore interesting to see how they settled the disputes nonviolently. This condition is important if nonviolent actions are to be construed not only as actions performed to protect personal interest or one’s own collective interest. These cases will show that nonviolence 12

Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Ideals and Realities of Islam (London: Unwin Hyman, 1988), p. 89.


20 in the prophetic traditions is far from inactive and that the prophets did take some actions in cases of conflict between two or more antagonists. Second, the prophets’ actions need to be nonviolent. Here, the most problematic of the three, though not alone, is the case of Prophet Muhammad. As the last prophet in Islam, he was also a warrior who fought in nine battles during his life time as a commander. 13 Jesus also drove out traders and money-changers from the Temple in Jerusalem 14 There were no incident of violence reported in which the Buddha played a part directly. However, this is not the place to explain the relationship between each prophet’s life and the absence or presence of violence. Suffice it to suggest that each prophet faced different kinds of immediate opponents which resulted in different kinds of reactions. It is more important, however, to underscore cases where these prophets used nonviolent actions in settling conflicts in their times. These incidents did exist and await students of nonviolence. It goes without saying that lessons learned from these cases will contribute significantly to peaceful conflict resolutions.

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Ustaz Iljas Ismail, The Life of Prophet Muhammad, S.A.W. and His Moral Teachings (Manila: Islamic Da’wah Council of the Philippines, 1988), pp. 150-153. 14 Matthew 21: 12-13; Mark 11: 15-19. All references from the Bible are from The New Jerusalem Bible (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1985).


21 Third, only successful nonviolent actions of the prophets will be examined here. Some of their nonviolent actions were met with violence. Prophet Muhammad and his followers were persecuted. Some were tortured and killed by the Quraysh in their attempts to dissuade him from preaching the message of Islam. 15 Jesus was arrested and crucified. 16 It is possible to claim that their nonviolent actions were unsuccessful if immediate results are taken into account, although it may be otherwise in the long run. Consider the little known case of the Buddha’s unsuccessful nonviolent intervention as an example. In 520 BC, a monk in the city of Kosambi left a lavatory water-jar outside the latrine without throwing away the remaining water. He was found guilty of negligence and punished. He and his friends did not regard his action as a disciplinary offense, while others did. The situation developed into open conflict and monks struck each other in front of lay followers. The Buddha tried to end the dispute by preaching, reasoning, and warning, but to no avail. Feeling disgusted and sad, he finally left them for the Parileyya forest. Both conflicting parties sent deputations to the Buddha asking him to settle the dispute 18 months later, when the lay followers on whom they depended for their food 15

Martin Lings, Muhammad: His Life Based on the Earliest Sources, (Rochester, Vermont: Inner Traditions International Ltd., 1983), pp. 41-42. 16 Matthew 27: 35-38, 45-50; Mark 15: 24-28; 33-37.


22 decided to refrain from supporting these quarrelsome monks. 17 I am deliberate in focusing on successful case stories in order to avoid the claim that if even people at the level of the Buddha failed and had to leave the scene of conflict, it would mean that “common people” need not have high hopes in practicing nonviolent actions. While “failures” of their nonviolent actions are important and should be carefully examined, it is the purpose of this essay to understand the conditions conducive to their successful nonviolent actions which also exist and need to be discussed. Fourth, and perhaps the most significant criterion, cases of nonviolent actions by the prophets to be selected will be prophylactic by nature. The prophets intervened in potentially violent conflicts and turned them around with their nonviolent actions. Conflicting parties were prevented from using violence through the prophets’ nonviolent interventions. If conditions responsible for the prophets’ successful 17

H.W. Schumann, The Historical Buddha: The Times, Life and Teachings of the Founder of Buddhism, trans. from the German by M. O’ C. Walshe (London: Arkana, 1989), pp. 119-121. It must be noted that Edward J. Thomas in his The Life of Buddha: As Legend and History (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975; originally published in 1927) wrote that after the Buddha was unable to reconcile the monks, he retired alone in the forest where he was protected and attended by an elephant. The monks were repentant and came to him “at the end of three months” (pp. 116-117), not 18 months as cited above.


23 nonviolent actions in potentially violent situations are examined, both nonviolence theories and practices will be significantly strengthened. It is now time to turn to case stories from the lives of the three prophets. I will proceed chronologically and begin with an episode from the enlightened life of the Gautama Buddha.

Buddha’s Preaching It was the fifth year after the Buddha’s enlightenment and his father had just passed away. A quarrel had broken out between the Sakyas and the neighboring Koliyas about the irrigation of the river Rohini. 18 This river, which is now called Rowai, formed the frontier between the territory of the Sakyas and the tribal land of the Koliyas. Rohini was blocked by a dam jointly built by both parties that drew off water for their fields. There came a time when the water level was so low that it was not possible to irrigate both sides. A quarrel broke out between both parties’ field laborers. Both antagonists exchanged insults and a “war” seemed to be inevitable. In fact after some shouting, fist-fights took place. Buddhist Legends describes the scene as follows: “Talk waxed bitter, until finally one arose and struck another a blow. The other 18

Thomas, The Life of Buddha, pp. 107-108; Schumann, The Historical Buddha, p. 115.


24 returned the blow and a general fight ensued, the combatants making matters worse by casting aspersions on the origin of the two royal families.” 19 As a result, the leaders of the two states decided to prepare for war, not to enforce or resist solutions to water shortage, but over the insults they suffered. The Buddha decided to intervene because “If I refrain from going to them, these men will destroy each other. It is clearly my duty to go to them.” 20 Based upon the Buddha’s spiritual integrity and kinship with the leaders of Sakyas, both sides listened to him when he began to ask them about the causes of this quarrel. According to the Dhammapada, everyone from the king down to the commander-in-chief of the army and the viceroy forgot the cause of the conflict they were facing. Only the slave laborers were able to reply that the quarrel was about the water. On the brink of war, the original cause of the dispute seems to 19

Burlingame, Buddhist Legends, Part 3 (Cambridge: Harvard Oriental Series Lanman, vol. 30 for PTS, 1969), p. 70. However, John A. McConnell in his “The Rohini Conflict and the Buddha’s Intervention,” in Radical Conservatism: Buddhism in the Contemporary World (Bangkok: Thai Inter-Religious Commission for Development and International Network of Engaged Buddhists, 1990), pointed out that there are two different though overlapping versions of the incident in Kunala Jataka and The Dhammapada Commentary, but he believed that they are complementary. (p. 200). 20 Buddhist Legends, Part 3, p. 71.


25 elude most concerned parties. Then the Buddha spoke: ‘How much is water worth great king?’ ‘Very little, Reverend Sir.’ ‘How much are Khattiyas (warriors) worth, great king?’ ‘Khattiyas are beyond price, Reverend Sir.’ ‘It is not fitting that because of a little water you should destroy Khattiyas who are beyond price.’ They were silent. Then the Teacher addressed them and said, ‘Great kings, why do you act in this manner? Were I not present today you would set flowing a river of blood. You have acted in the most unbecoming manner. 21 McConnell, who examined this case in particular, concludes that due to the Buddha’s spiritual integrity, to which Ahimsa (nonviolence) was integral, he had attained the level of moral power that the conflicting parties found compelling. In fact not only did they spontaneously disarm, they also received his strong criticism in silence. 22 Schumann, on the other hand, attributes his successful nonviolent intervention to his fame as an enlightened one, his position as a friend of King Pasenadi, to whom both sides were subject, and his eloquence. 23

21

Ibid. McConnell, “The Rohini Conflict and the Buddha’s Intervention,” p. 207. 23 Schumann, The Historical Buddha, p. 115. 22


26 What happens in this case is a form of nonviolent persuasion. The Buddha invited the conflicting parties to ponder the consequences should the quarrel turn violent. In the process, they were reminded to compare the value of their lives and the possible result of war. In order to do so, he had to break the impasse where conflicting parties “forgot” the original cause of the conflict and concentrated more on resulting insults and wounded dignity. Although he was able to command their attention because both sides knew who he was and seemed to respect his moral authority, the decision to intervene in the first place was his. He could have maintained that political conflict was beyond the realm of a Buddhist monk’s obligation. He chose to act and his action thwarted what could have become a war where “a river of blood will flow.” As Sharp has always maintained, “Nonviolent action is just what it says: action that is nonviolent, not inaction.” 24 The Buddha acted nonviolently by stepping in to prevent a possible war and he was successful.

Jesus’ Judgment Compared to the lives of the other two prophets, Jesus’ life was short. A case story which fits the criteria mentioned above is not easy to find because most of the time, he was a 24

Gene Sharp, Civilian-Based Defense: A Post-Military Weapons System (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1990), p. 38.


27 part of the conflict, if not the focus of conflict himself. There was an incident, however, when he stepped in to stop violence from being done to a woman. The Bible indicates that the situation was designed by the scribes and Pharisees in order to find a way to accuse him later. Yet the event shows how the prophet acted nonviolently and saved a life. Since the story as told in the Bible is brief, it will be reproduced here in full. And Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. At daybreak he appeared in the Temple again; and as all the people came to him, he sat down and began to teach them. The scribes and Pharisees brought a woman along who had been caught committing adultery; and making her stand there in the middle, they said to Jesus, ‘Master, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery, and in the Law Moses has ordered us to stone women of this kind. What have you got to say?’ They asked him this as a test, looking for an accusation to use against him. But Jesus bent down and started writing on the ground with his finger. As they persisted with their question, he straightened up and said, ‘Let the one among you who is guiltless be the first to throw a stone at her.’ Then he bent down and continued writing on the ground. When they heard this, they went away one by one, beginning with the eldest, until the last one had gone and Jesus was left


28 alone with the woman, who remained in the middle. Jesus again straightened up and said, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you? ‘No one, sir,’ she replied. ‘Neither do I condemn you,’ said Jesus. ‘Go away, and from this moment sin no more. 25 Instead of dealing with the above passage as a direct teaching, I will look more at the event in order to understand Jesus’ nonviolent intervention in this case. This can be considered a case where Jesus had to assume the role of a judge. In fact, this case is often understood as “a test of his casuistic skill as a rabbi.” But Joachim Jeremias sees it as “a challenge to participate in (or interfere with) the judicial process, as Jesus might want.” 26 If Jeremias is correct, then this is a case where the prophet made a choice to undertake the challenge in which the life of a woman was at stake. For someone like Jesus, it is logical to believe that saving the life by accepting the challenge to judge the accused becomes a basis 25

John 8: 1-11. It is interesting to note that this story does not appear in all other Synoptic gospels. The John gospel is known to be different. (See Wilson, Jesus: The Evidence, p. 31). However, The Jerusalem Bible has a note which maintains that the author of this passage is not John because its style is that of the Synoptics. Nevertheless, the passage was accepted in the canon since there are no grounds for regarding it as unhistorical (p. 1761). 26 John Howard Yoder, The Politics of Jesus (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1987), p. 62.


29 for his decision to act. Similar to the Buddha in the above case story, Jesus used nonviolent rational persuasion to stop the public from stoning the woman who was accused of committing adultery. But unlike the Buddha in the case above, instead of directing the minds of the public from the violence they were about to use towards the consequence of their actions, they were led to look deep into themselves. Jesus did not repudiate Moses’ law, but he asked those who were determined to carry out the judgment to ascertain that they were worthy of the task. In the process of self-examination, they realized that they too were sinners and dared not cast the first stone. It should also be noted that, unlike the Buddha, Jesus at that point was a fugitive. The Bible says that he had to travel around Galilee for safety because the Jews were seeking to kill him around Judaea. 27 Nevertheless, there were people who believed in him. Some thought he was a prophet, others were certain that he was Christ. 28 Therefore, his successful intervention in this case cannot be directly attributed to his accepted moral authority. I would argue that it is the power of his persuasion to entice the potentially violent crowd not to judge the accused woman but to be the judges of their own lives. It was possible that in the process of self-examination, they found out that while one’s index finger was pointing at 27 28

John 7:1. John 7:40-41.


30 others, more fingers were pointing back at oneself. Perhaps, in shame, they left the scene, their violence averted by the prophet’s action.

Muhammad’s Wisdom According to the Qur’an, the Ka’ba was built by Abraham 29 as the first House of God in the traditions of monotheism. In the Ka’ba, there is a Black Stone, which is believed to be a meteor. Al Gazzali writes that the Black Stone “is a jewel out of the Jewels of Paradise.” 30 In the Islamic tradition, this stone from heaven symbolizes the original covenant (al-mithaqa) between God and human beings and that the latter have to live in accordance with Truth and take care of the earth. 31 In the year 605, when Prophet Muhammad was 35, the people of Mecca were rebuilding the Ka’ba, which was earlier destroyed by flood. As it then stood it was without roof and was merely above the height of a man. Different clans gathered stones to increase the height of the building. They worked separately until the walls were high enough to place the Black Stone into 29

The Message of the Qur’an, trans. and explained by Muhammad Assad (Gibraltar: Dar Al-Andalus, 1980), II:125-127. 30 Al-Gazzali, Ihya Ulum-id-Din, Book I, trans. Maulana Fazul-ul-Karim (Lahore: Sind Sagar Academy, n.d.), p. 234. 31 Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Ideals and Realities in Islam, p. 26.


31 its corner. Then there was an explosive disagreement because each clan wanted the honor of lifting it into its place. The deadlock lasted for four or five days, and these people prepared for battle to resolve this conflict. Then the eldest man present proposed to the conflicting parties to heed the advice of the first man who would enter the precinct surrounding the Ka’ba through the gate “Babus Safa.” They all agreed. The first man who walked through the gate was Muhammad. Everyone was happy because Muhammad was known among them as Al-Amin, the trustworthy and the faithful one. They were prepared to accept his judgment. After listening to the case, Muhammad asked them to bring him a cloak which he then spread on the ground. He took up the Black Stone and laid it on the middle of the garment. Then he said, “Let each clan take hold of the border of the cloak. Then lift it up, all of you together.” When they raised it to the proper height, he took the stone and placed it in the corner himself. And the rebuilding of the Ka’ba continued until its completion. 32 At the time when this incident took place, Muhammad had yet to become a prophet. Therefore he was not as highly regarded as the enlightened Buddha in the Rohini case. But unlike Jesus in the story mentioned above, he 32

Lings, Muhammad, pp. 41-42.


32 was not a fugitive, nor was he persecuted. In fact, his reputation as a trustworthy one was widespread. Unlike the cases of the two prophets already discussed, he did not choose to intervene in the first place. It was the disputants who decided to let their destinies be dictated by chance. The clans had already made an agreement among themselves to listen to him. But it was the persuasive power of his method of settling the dispute that was accepted. If his suggestion had not satisfied all parties, it is possible that some of those involved might have not accepted his judgment. Even if they did, they might have done so involuntarily and violence could later have erupted as well. But following his wisdom, it seems that all conflicting parties left with happy smiles on their faces because no one had missed the chance to perform the honorable task. Prophet Muhammad was wise in not deciding which individual or clan should receive the honor of placing the Black Stone in its place. Instead, he was able to find a solution that all conflicting parties could participate on equal terms, and thus satisfied all sides. By placing the Black Stone on the cloak, he successfully expanded the space of participation which in turn nonviolently resolved the conflict at its root. As a result, a possible battle among the Arabs who highly valued honor and dignity was effectively prevented. It now remains to be seen what are the lessons learned from discussing the prophet’s nonviolent


33 actions in potentially violent conflicts of their times.

Conclusion: Lessons Learned from the Prophets’ Actions If Sharp’s typology of nonviolent methods is used, then the three prophets in these three case stories discussed above obviously used nonviolent persuasion in the sense that they were trying to influence others to accept their points of view and not to use violent action. 33 To be more specific, rather than using the emotive kind of persuasion, they seemed to be using rational persuasion in turning potentially violent situations around. But how did their rational persuasion work in these cases? Again, in Sharp’s language, what would be the dynamics of the prophets’ nonviolent actions? According to Sharp’s typology of dynamics, there are four mechanisms of change which operate in nonviolent actions. They are: conversion, accommodation, nonviolent 34 coercion, and disintegration. From the case

33

Gene Sharp, The Politics of Nonviolent Action: Part Two: The Methods of Nonviolent Action (Boston: Porter Sargent Publishers, 1973), p. 118. See also his CivilianBased Defense, pp. 40-48. 34 Sharp, Civilian-Based Defense, p. 60-64. The fourth mechanism is a new addition. In his earlier work, only the first three mechanisms were discussed. See his The Politics of Nonviolent Action: Part Three: The Dynamics of


34 stories discussed above, I would argue that nonviolent conversions occurred in all of them. When nonviolent conversion takes place, the target group adopts a new point of view and accepts new goals. Such change may be brought about by “reason and argumentation, though it is doubtful that such intellectual efforts alone will produce conversion. Conversion in nonviolent action is likely also to involve the opponents’ emotions, beliefs, attitudes, and moral system.” 35 Sharp is fully aware of the fact that conversion seems to range on a continuum from a rational change of attitude on a specific issue to a change in the person’s emotions and deepest convictions. 36 It must be noted that in Sharp’s analysis, nonviolent actions are generally used against “opponents.” But in the three cases of the three prophets, because they were each a third party, they did not really have “opponents.” They did have their “target groups” whose violent behavior they wanted to halt and whose minds they wanted to change. In addition, Sharp’s discussion of conversion seems to emphasize the role of selfsuffering. He maintained that the suffering of nonviolent combatants “may play a major role in

Nonviolent Action (Boston: Porter Sargent Publishers, 1973), pp. 705-776. 35 Sharp, Civilian-Based Defense, p. 60. 36 Sharp, The Politics of Nonviolent Action: Part Three, p. 718.


35 affecting the opponents’ emotions.” 37 But in the prophets’ cases discussed above, self-suffering on the part of the nonviolent advocates played no role at all. The fact that the prophets were the third-party in all these cases could serve as an explanatory factor. Yet, something more seems to be at work. The ways nonviolent conversions work in the three cases are different. Apart from the different contexts and perceptions of the prophets in the eyes of their people, the manners in which their persuasions operated are extremely significant. The Buddha brought to light the possible consequences of violence if the Rohini conflict were not settled peacefully. Jesus invited those who wanted to stone the accused woman to look into themselves and see whether they were qualified to carry out the Law of Moses. Muhammad created an alternative by expanding the scope of participation among conflicting parties and used this broadened space as a vehicle to help all sides realize their noble task of carrying the Black Stone to its place. It would be interesting to see the faces of those who were about to engage in violence and had to stop because of the prophets’ intervention. If I am allowed to imagine their faces, I believe that Sakyas and Koliyas would listen to the Buddha with a sense of fear and relief. But the scribes and the Pharisees in Jesus’s story would leave the 37

Sharp, Civilian-Based Defense, p. 60; See also ibid., p. 720.


36 ground where the woman stood with their faces hiding in shame. On the other hand, the Arabs who accepted prophet Muhammad’s suggestion would leave the Ka’ba with smiles on their faces. Are all these people converted? I would answer in the affirmative if their conversions primarily meant they decided against the use of violence. Will they forever become nonviolent? This is difficult to answer because conversion needs not be total; it can be partial. Perhaps they were more or less transformed by the prophets’ touches. Case stories from the three prophets’ lives are important to nonviolence studies and research because they bring to light a number of crucial issues. First, conversion is possible without selfsuffering. Second, rational persuasion which emphasizes consequences of violence plays an important role in halting possible violence. Third, self-examination, when properly undertaken, can create a new understanding of oneself that may make it difficult to use violence on others. Fourth, creative construction of alternative solutions is imperative if violence is to be avoided and conflicting parties are to feel satisfied with the resolution. Finally, nonviolent actions are not merely methods of struggle when violence occurs. Nonviolent conversions can be used before violence appears. The horizon of theories and practices of nonviolence will be freshly broadened if the preventive nature of nonviolent conversions, as seen from the


37 examples of the three prophets, is seriously considered by scholars in the fields of nonviolence.


38

The Prophets and the Murderers: Re-enchanting Peace with Prophetic Paradigms In a paper presented at the Eighteenth International Peace Research Association Conference in Tampere, Finland, a young scholar from the University of Wales argued that most contemporary armed conflicts are based on underlying ‘philosophical’ assumptions of superiority and identity. In so far as followers of religions justify their existence by assuming superiority over other belief-systems, this makes ‘violence not only possible, but also inevitable’. He then went on to emphasize that ‘religions are by definition incompatible, and peace is therefore impossible as long as there is religion’. 38 Given news from around the world, and especially in Asia Pacific, with killings between Muslims and Christians in Indonesia and the Philippines or violence and terrorism in a largely Buddhist society such as Sri Lanka with senior monks coming out in the name of patriotism against problematic peace accords designed to end bloodshed, among others, it is easy to see the role of religions as a justification for violence. But in 38

J. Petter Larson, ‘Wholly Justified War: An Analysis of the Relationship between Religion and War in the Contemporary World,’ paper presented to the Commission on International Conflicts, 18th IPRA General Conference, Tampere, Finland, 5-9 August 2000.


39 a world fragmented by conflicts of interest and politics of identify, it is intellectually more challenging to try to elucidate the role religions play in justifying peace and nonviolence. Intellectual challenges aside, whether one characterizes this age as civilizational clash or dialogue, the fact remains that civilizations informed by religious doctrines and histories are shaping the lives of a large number of people on the planet. Reasons for this have been examined elsewhere, 39 the relevant question here is: what can people of religious persuasion do in the face of violence shattering their lives both at the individual and collective levels? Here I would argue that unless the role religions play in nurturing peaceful conflicts is underscored, there is a good chance that conflict in the world today could turn out to be more violent with the deadly chemistry of hatred, anger, hunger for justice amidst unjust structures and modern weapons. This essay is an attempt to tap into existing religious resources for creative alternatives that could be accepted by religious believers. I wish to explore the issue of religions and violence by examining the ways in which the prophets of 39

See for example, a special issue on ‘Religious Revivalism in Southeast Asia’ in the journal Sojourn, ISEAS, Singapore, vol. 8, no. 1 (February 1993), or Charles F. Keyes, Laurel Kendell and Helen Hardacre (eds.), Asian Visions of Authority: Religion and the Modern States of East and Southeast Asia (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1994).


40 Buddhism, Christianity and Islam deal with murderers in their own times. These three religions are chosen not because they are spiritually more important than others (e.g. Hinduism or native American religions), but because of their demographic significance and their share of responsibility in contemporary violent conflicts. Case stories from the lives of the three prophets will be briefly described. Their ways of dealing with murderers will then be analyzed. Finally, the importance of bringing out peace-related stories in a world plagued with violence will be discussed.

The story of the Buddha and Angulimala 40 Gautama Buddha had on some occasions intervened in human affairs to stop violence. 41 40

All accounts of the Buddha and Angulimala are from H. W. Schumann, The Historical Buddha: The Times, Life and Teachings of the Founder of Buddhism, translated from German by M. O’C. Walshe (London: Arkana, 1989), pp. 126-127; Edward J. Thomas, The Life of Buddha as Legend and History (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975; first pub. 1927), pp. 121-122; and as a historical fiction in David J. and Indrani Kalupahana, The Way of Siddhartha: A life of the Buddha (Boulder & London: Shambhala, 1982), pp. 182-187. The story of Angulimala is based on ‘Angulimala-sutta’ in Raja-Vagga, Majjhima Nikaya (Medium-Length Discourses of the Buddha); see Guide to the Tripilaka: Introduction to the Buddhist Cannon, (Bangkok: White Lotus, 1993), p. 54. 41 See for example the first essay in this volume, and also John A. McConnell, ‘The Rohini Conflict and the


41 But no other incident was quite as dramatic as his confrontation with a notorious murderer. His successful taming of this feared bandit and killer is said to have ‘been noised abroad and further enhanced the Buddha’s prestige’. 42 But this incident is chosen here more because of the dramatic effect of Buddha’s Dhamma on the mind of a confirmed murderer, hence, its pedagogical affect of stopping violence. It was the year 508 BC when the Buddha chose the monasteries of Savatthi for his regular rain retreats. An area in Savatthi was said to be plagued with danger in the form of a fearsome murderer and robber by the name of Angulimala. A son of Gagga, a Brahmin with a post in the court of the King of Kosala, Angulimala was originally named Ahimsaka (the nonviolent one) when he was born. He was so named because of a prophecy that he was to become a notorious murderer. Educated at the university of Takkasila and with trained intelligence, he managed to wreak fear and avoid arrest at the hands of King Pasendi’s soldiers. Waiting for caravans and travelers, Angulimala would terrorize people, killing so many of them and cutting their fingers off to make a finger-necklace, which he then put Buddha’s Intervention’ in Radical Conservatism: Buddhism and the Contemporary World (Bangkok: Thai Inter-Religious Commission for Development and International Network of Engaged Buddhists, 1990), pp. 200-208. 42 Schumann, The Historical Buddha, p. 127.


42 on around his neck in fulfillment of a vow he had made. Ignoring all warnings about Angulimala, the Buddha set out from Savatthi into the murderer’s area. The killer followed the Buddha and was caused to stand still by the Enlightened One. While walking away from the killer, the Buddha told him that it was he, Angulimala, who had not stopped. The murderer was puzzled and therefore inquired: As thou goest monk, thou sayest, ‘I stand still’, And to me who stand thou sayest ‘thou standest not’, I ask thee monk this question: How standest thou still and I stand not? The Buddha replied: I stand still, Angulimala, in every wise; Towards all living things have I laid asideviolence; But thou to all living things art unrestrained; Therefore I stand still and thou standest not. 43 Pondering the Buddha’s words, Angulimala realized that stopping had different layers of meaning. He wanted the Buddha to stop walking 43

The quote is from Thomas, The Life of Buddha as Legend and History, p. 121.


43 physically so that he could continue his murdering spree. But it is he who had not stopped because his mind continued to desire to take others’ lives. Without stopping of the mind, there can be no meaningful continuation of the journey in one’s life. Either as a result of understanding the Buddha’s admonition or a logical decision to join the Sangha in order to avoid punishment from worldly jurisdiction, Angulimala decided to ‘stop’ and take refuge in the Buddha’s Dhamma. From being a murderer with so much blood on his hands, he became the Buddha’s disciple and was put up in Anathapindika’s Jetavana monastery. Having endured a number of incidents in accordance with his karma (past actions which yield consequences), he later attained enlightenment. According to legend, Angulimala had killed 999 people and intended to add one more finger to his heinous necklace. Yet, it seems the Buddha did not give up hope in the capacity of human beings to change for the better. He made the man physically stop, then raised his sense of wonder, and allowed time for him to search for his own answer. Angulimala was obviously intelligent enough to be curious about the Buddha’s enigmatic remark. After he physically stopped, or was made to stop, he could re-examine his mind to see with Buddha’s guidance the inner meaning of stopping. He could change his violent course of action after the ‘inner stopping’ which allowed him to see his own action with clarity of mind. A


44 murderer was thus transformed and finally became enlightened.

Jesus and the disciple who drew his sword 44 It is interesting first to note that it is not easy to find an encounter between Jesus and the murderer, although the teaching of ‘Thou shall not kill’ is a prominent feature of Christianity. The most important encounter is perhaps the scene of Jesus on the cross when, as we see in Luke’s but not in the others gospels, Jesus said: ‘Father, forgive them: they do not know what they are doing.’ (23:34) Because of the significance of Jesus on the cross in Christian theology, it can be argued that this was the act of the Son in pursuit of the Divine Will on behalf of the whole of humankind and therefore unique. I have chosen instead the incident of Jesus’ disciple who drew his sword to defend his master against arrest by the guards who came for him. 44

The story of Jesus and the disciple who drew his sword is from The New Jerusalem Bible (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1985); Matthew 14:43-52, p. 1682; Luke 22:4753, p. 1728; John 18:1-11, p. 1784. See also Ian Wilson, Jesus: The Evidence (London & Sydney: Pan Books, 1985); John Dominic Crossan, The Historical Jesus: The Life of a Mediterranean Jewish Peasant (San Francisco: Harper 1991). See also a fascinating literary treatment of Jesus’ life in Jose Saramago, The Gospel according to Jesus Christ, trans. from the Portuguese by Giovanni Pontiero (San Diego, New York & London: Harcourt Brace & Company, 1994).


45 The drawing of the sword suggests the possible intention to use it to its full potential as an instrument of death. In addition to ‘cutting off’ a man’s ear, one would have to aim the weapon somewhere from the neck upwards, which again points to the possibility of inflicting death. Although it was finally used to ‘cut off’ the ear of a man and the murder did not take place, if left unstopped it is not difficult to imagine where this could have led. Perhaps, the incident, if allowed to continue without Jesus’ intervention, could have provoked violent confrontation between the guards and his disciples, which could in turn have triggered more bloodshed. The lesson to be learnt from this incident is important for the Prophet’s prophylactic act which successfully prevented the further use of violence. In the last year of his life before he was crucified, Jesus was arrested. Each of the four gospels depicts the scene of ‘the arrest’ a little differently—Mark, a younger co-worker of the apostle Peter, was writing thirty-five years after Jesus’ crucifixion, while Matthew, Luke and John were writing some time between 70 and 100 CE. 45 Notwithstanding these differences, the story of the arrest itself is quite instructive.

45

See for example a provocative analysis of the ways these different gospels deal with ‘the adversity’ in Elaine Pages, The Origins of Satan (New York: Vintage Books, 1996).


46 After the last supper, where he prophesied a number of incidents concerning his disciples, including the ‘betrayal’ by Judas, Jesus left with them and crossed the Kidron valley to go to the garden of Gethsemane. Judas had already spoken with the chief priests and arranged for Jesus to be identified with a kiss. The guards came looking for Jesus, and after identification he was to be arrested. At this point, a member of Jesus’ group drew the sword. Here the gospel accounts differ. In Matthew, it is ‘one of the followers of Jesus’ who ‘grasped his sword and drew it, he struck the high priest’s servant and cut off his ear’ (14:47). In Luke, it was ‘one of his followers’ who, after asking ‘Lord, shall we use our swords?’ struck the high priest’s servant and cut off his right ear’ (22:48:50). John’s gospel is the only one which named the sword user and the victim: ‘Simon Peter, who had a sword, drew it and struck the high priest’s servant cutting off his right ear. The servant’s name was Malchus’ (18:10). Jesus’ reactions to this incident as described in the four gospels also differ slightly. In Matthew, he says: ‘Put your sword back, for all who draw on the sword will die by the sword’ (26:52). In Mark he does not say anything to the sword user but goes on to speak to those who came to arrest him ‘with swords and clubs’ (14:48). In Luke, Jesus not only says ‘That is enough’ but also heals his victim by touching his ear (22:51). In John, Jesus speaks to Peter: ‘Put your sword back


47 in its scabbard: am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?’(18:11). Mark’s gospel aside, according to the three synoptic gospels, Jesus told his disciple to stop and successfully prevented the sword bearer from using further violence. In Matthew he warned those who used the sword of the inevitable consequences of violence. In addition, according to Luke, he also healed the victim by putting his ear back in its place. However, it could be said that the main reason given for Jesus calling for an end to violence was to remind his disciples of both his teachings and the meaning of his mission, and to explain that this arrest was in fact part of the Divine Will which would ultimately lead to the emancipatory destiny awaiting him and the world. His prophetic act is therefore essentially preventative. In successfully persuading his disciples to give up violence even when angered at seeing the arrest of their Master, he effectively prevented them from becoming murderers.


48

Muhammad and Hind: The Quraysh Woman 46 As both a religious and political leader, Prophet Muhammad had engaged in both peaceful and violent conflicts. But one of the most dramatic and perhaps pedagogically significant incident was his way of dealing with a woman from his own tribe of Quraysh, whose name was Hind bin ‘Utbah. It is dramatic because of the way the killing took place and what followed. It is pedagogical because the one who was killed was the Prophet’s uncle. After much persecution by the Meccans, the Prophet migrated to Madina, a town some 200 miles North of Mecca. In the year 622 CE—this hijra (migration from Mecca to Madina) marks the beginning of the Muslim calendar. Two years later came the great battle of Badr where the Muslims defeated the Meccan army. In that 46

The translation of the Qur’an used here is from The Message of the Qu’ran, trans. and explained by Muhammad Assad (Gibraltar: Dar Al-Andalus, 1980). For the story of the Muhammad and Hind retold here I rely on Martin Lings, Muhammad: His Life Based on the Earliest Sources (Rochester, Vermont: Inner Traditions International, 1983), pp. 189-90, 300-303; but see also Muhammad Husayn-Haykal, The Life of Muhammad (N.P.: North American Trust Publications, 1976), pp. 265-270, 406-408, a highly regarded Arabic original translated by the late Isma’il Ragi A. Al Faruqi. For a brief biographical sketch of Muhammad as the Prophet of monotheism see Michael Cook, Muhammad (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983).


49 battle, Hamzah, the Prophet’s uncle killed Hind’s father, brother and a number of other relatives. In 625 CE at the battle of Uhud near Madina, the Meccans fought the Muslims back with a vengeance. Hind was at the battle scene. Hind had promised Wahshi, the Abyssinian, a great amount of wealth if he could kill Hamzah. When Wahshi saw him in the middle of the battle he threw his javelin at him and hit him right in the abdomen, piercing him through. He left his weapon to pin its victim down until he died. Wahshi had killed Hamzah in order to win his liberty from the Meccans. 47 He went back to the body of Hamzah, ripped open his belly, cut out his liver and brought it to Hind and asked her: ‘What shall be mine for slaying the slayer of thy father?’ ‘All my share of the spoils’, was her answer. Wahshi then said: ‘This is Hamzah’s liver’. Hind took it from him and bit away a piece of it, chewed it, swallowed a morsel in fulfillment of her vow and spat out the rest. She then went to the body of the slain and cut off Hamzah’s nose, ears and other parts of the flesh. 48 The Prophet later saw Hamzah’s body, and was appalled at the sight. He said: ‘Never yet have I felt more anger, than now I feel; and when next God giveth me a victory over Quraysh I will

47 48

Haykal, The Life of Muhammad, p. 262. Lings, Muhammad, p. 191.


50 mutilate thirty of their dead’. 49 At that moment came the following revelation: Hence, if you have to respond to an attack, Respond only to the extent of the attack leveled against you; But to bear yourselves with patience is indeed far better for (you) (Since God is with) those who are patient in adversity. Endure, then, with patience (all that they who deny the truth may say) Always remembering that it is none but God who gives you the strengthto endure adversity. And do not grieve over them. And neither be distressed by the false arguments which they devise.’ 50 The Prophet then pardoned, bore patiently and laid down an absolute prohibition against mutilation. In January 630 CE, he led 10,000 Muslims into the holy city of Mecca. Encountering no real resistance, he entered Mecca victorious. The question becomes what would he do to Hind and the Quraysh who had committed such violence against Hamzah and other Muslims? 49

Haykal, The Life of the Muhammad, p. 268; Lings, Muhammad, p. 191. 50 Al-Qur’an 16:126-127.


51 The Prophet addressed the Meccans who gathered not far from the Ka’ba, first by asking them a question: ‘What say ye, and what think ye?’, they answered: ‘We say well, and we think well: a noble and generous brother, son of a noble and generous brother. It is thine to command’. He then spoke to them in the words of forgiveness, which, according to the Revelation, Joseph spoke to his brothers when they came to him in Egypt: ‘Verily I say as my brother Joseph said: This day there shall be no upbraiding of you nor of your reproach. God forgiveth you and He is the most Merciful of the merciful’. 51 Among the women who came to pay the Prophet homage was Hind bin ‘Utbah. She covered her face for fear that the Prophet might put her to death before she embraced Islam. She said: ‘O Messenger of God praise be to Him who hath made triumph the religion which I choose for myself’. Then she unveiled her face and said: ‘Hind, the daughter of ‘Utbah’. The Prophet then simply said: ‘Welcome’ and forgave her. 52 The Prophet’s interaction with Hind occurred in a war situation. Hind was avenging her father and other family members’ death by encouraging the killing of the Prophet’s uncle who took their lives in battle. She then mutilated Hamzah’s 51

Lings, Muhammad, pp. 300-301. Lings, Muhammad, p. 301; Haykal, The Life of the Muhammad, p. 411. 52


52 body. The Prophet first responded to this with anger, so much so that he decided to inflict violence on thirty Quraysh. Then as the verse of the holy Qur’an was revealed to him God taught that though proportional response to violence is acceptable in Islam along the lines of retributive justice, it is far better to be patient, to get rid of the anger, and ultimately to deal with past actions which are irreversible with forgiveness. The Prophet dealt with Hind exactly as the Words were revealed to him. He put his anger aside and then exercised patience. When he could return to Mecca victorious, he had a choice: to punish Hind for the violent act she had committed against his beloved uncle or to forgive the murderer. 53 He chose the latter course of action in accordance with what is clearly stipulated in another verse of the Qur’an. But (remember that an attempt at) requiting evil may, too, become an evil; Hence, whoever pardons (his foe) and makespeace, His reward rests with God – For, verily, He does not love evildoers. 54

53

See my analysis of forgiveness in Chaiwat Satha-Anand, ‘The Politics of Forgiveness’ in Robert Herr and Judy Zimmerman Herr (eds.), Transforming Violence: Linking Local and Global Peacemaking (Scottdale, Pennsylvania and Waterloo, Ontario: Herald Press, 1998), pp. 68-78. 54 Al-Qur’an 42:40.


53

Conclusion: lessons from the prophets and the need for re-enchantment? Instead of comparing how the three prophets dealt with the murderers they faced—a complex and difficult exercise in comparative religious studies given the differences, among other things, in context, ethos, personalities and histories, I shall confine myself to drawing a number of lessons. First the most common feature in these stories is that violence must stop. The Buddha stopped Angulimala, Jesus stopped his disciple, and Hind was stopped by Prophet Muhammad’s victory. Second, the Buddha’s method in this story is transformative in nature in that it could change an individual from being a murderer with a bloody life history to becoming a monk and later attaining enlightenment. Third, Jesus’ disciple was yet to become a murderer. His method is primarily preventative in that it prevents someone from becoming a murderer. Jesus’ prophylactic act can in turn, create the conditions where escalation of violence becomes less likely and his own destiny is realized on the cross. Fourth, Muhammad had to deal with a past action that was personal but might yet have political consequences if unwisely approached. To paraphrase Hannah Arendt, one of the two basic problems of the human condition is that what is done is done. The past is irreversible. The question then becomes: how is one to continue with life? In Arendt’s view the only way to live


54 with the irreversible past is to forgive. 55 Prophet Muhammad’s method can in this sense be termed liberative, because it allows human beings to free themselves from the tyranny of irreversible past actions. By forgiving the enemy, an act of high spiritual piety or a necessary political choice, a new and more peaceful political community, where former friends and foes, surviving murderers and victims can live side by side, becomes feasible. In a world torn asunder by different forms of violence—direct, structural and cultural—the prophetic paradigm suggests that peaceful alternatives to violence need to take into account both the individuals and the collectivities, the past and the future. To accomplish this, these alternatives should at once be transformative, preventative and liberative. What is needed now are not only lessons from these religious sources but the opportunity to be re-enchanted in a world that has become desperately fragmented, where minds are sadly suffering from homelessness. For lessons to be learnt, one needs to be alive and fascinated by those lessons. Stories such as those retold in this essay may offer a chance for re-enchantment, especially for those of religious persuasions. 55

Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition (Garden City, New York: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1956), pp. 212-213. See further discussion on the concept of forgiveness in the next essay.


55 Perhaps then, with the appropriate prophetic touch, lessons learnt could be used to heal, liberate and transform the world.


56

Forgiveness in Southeast Asia: Political Necessity and Sacred Justifications 56 On 4 June 2002, a school bus in Suan Pueng-Rajburi, Thailand, was attacked by three gunmen dressed as soldiers. Three children were killed; 17 more were injured, leaving six of them in critical conditions. Some Thai columnists suggest in daily newspapers that those who committed such an act were worse than animals and should not even be allowed ‘to breathe the 56

This paper is a revised and modified version of a keynote address at the 17th Annual Berkeley Conference on Southeast Asian Studies, Center for Southeast Asian Studies, University of California at Berkeley (12-13 February 2000). The original version has been translated into Bahasa Indonesian and published as ‘Memaafkan di Asia Tenggara: Kebutuhan Politik dan Justifikasi Kudus’ in my Agama dan Budaya Perdamaian (Yogyakarta, Forum kajian Budaya dan Agama, Pusat Studi Keamanan dan Perdamaian, Universiti Gadjah Mada, Quaker International Affairs, 2001), pp. 142-175. I am grateful to a number of colleagues who helped shape this paper. I thank the late Dante Germino of the University of Amsterdam, Professor Renate Holub of Berkeley, Sombat Chantornvong of Thammasat University and Suwanna Satha-Anand of Chulalongkorn University for their learned discussions, Craig Reynolds of the University of Sydney for his kind editorial suggestions, and Decha-Pasawanan Tangseefa, University of Hawai’i, for their generosity with their time, space and other resources.


57 air of this land’. 57 Meanwhile in southern Philippines, an army team attacked Abu Sayyaf guerrillas, killing four of them in an effort to rescue three hostages kidnapped in May 2001. Two of the hostages died in this rescue mission. The then Philippines President Arroyo said, ‘The terrorists will not be allowed to get away with this.’ 58 It seems that in such cases it is difficult for many to forgive these terrorists. Perhaps, there is a limit to forgiveness? This essay is an attempt to suggest that at this time in Southeast Asia, and perhaps elsewhere in the world, forgiveness is badly needed out of political necessity. 59 In addition, forgiveness would be possible if grounded in time-honored religious traditions which could well serve as its sacred justification. This essay is organized around three main questions. First, why does forgiveness work, especially among the victims of violence? The concept of forgiveness I am proposing here will be critically addressed, underscoring its 57

Matichon Daily, 6 June 2002 (in Thai). Bangkok Post, 8 June 2002. 59 There is a growing literature on forgiveness, for example: Nicholas Tavuchis, Mea Culpa: A Sociology of Apology and Reconciliation (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1991); Johann Christoph Arnold, The Lost Art of Forgiveness (Farmington, PA: Plough, 1998); Robert Enright and Joanna North, Exploring Forgiveness (Chicago: Moody Press, 1998); and Brian Frost, Struggle to Forgive: Nelson Mandela and South Africa’s Search for Reconciliation (London: Harper Collins, 1998). 58


58 relationship to power relations, memory/time and justice. Second, how is forgiveness possible? I would argue that it is possible because sacred justifications, grounded in selected major religious beliefs of Southeast Asia—Islam, Christianity and Buddhism—and generally accepted by their believers, do exist and could be examined for possible practical application. Finally, the notion of forgiveness as a child of both political necessity and sacredness will be briefly advanced.

Violence in Southeast Asia Forgiveness is needed now in Southeast Asia, understood as a topography nurtured by complex and sometimes interrelated streams of cultures, because violence exists in this area. At an Asian security conference, the Singaporean statesman Lee Kuan Yew maintained that Muslim militants were plotting to overthrow the governments of Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines and Singapore to set up an Asian Islamic state, and that in this situation the ‘stability of Indonesia is crucial to the future of the region’. 60 There are two points to Lee’s remark. First, it goes without saying that the ‘Muslim factor’ in various contexts is different and it is interesting to note the various ways in which Muslims relate to nation-states such as Indonesia and the Philippines. Second, even in countries where the ‘Muslim factor’ has not been conspicuous, such 60

Bangkok Post, 1 June 2002.


59 as the new East Timor, the specters of past violence are still haunting the present. Take the longstanding violence in Aceh as an example. 61 Aceh’s history has been a continuous struggle against first the Dutch, then the Japanese, the Communists and lately the Indonesian government. Many Acehnese believe that resources were taken away from Aceh to feed Java, and Jakarta only gave back 2 per cent of what was taken. Of some 4 million people in 43,000 villages, at least 40 per cent live in abject poverty without water supply or electricity. They want to culturally affirm their identity, but they have been accused of separatism. They wish to devote their lives to Islam, but they have been called ‘fundamentalists’. They aspire to be a meaningful part of Indonesia, but that wish was consistently denied under Javanese hegemony. As fighters, they fought valiantly for Indonesian independence but their historical contribution towards Indonesian independence has rarely been appreciated. In this sense, their history is that of betrayal by Jakarta. Given a history of betrayal and violence, some guerrilla members under Gerakan Aceh Merdaka: Free Aceh Movement (GAM) have advocated not only autonomy for Aceh, but also the destruction of Indonesia itself.

61

The account here is primarily based on my meetings with Hasballah M. Sa’ad, the former Indonesian Minister of Human Rights, first in Jakarta (7 September 1999), and then Bangkok (18 April 2002).


60 On the other hand, East Timor, 62 a former Portuguese colony with a population that is more than 90 per cent Roman Catholic, was occupied by the Indonesian military forces in 1975. While it may be true that Indonesia had spent a good deal of its resources to develop East Timor, some 200,000 East Timorese have died from colonial violence since its forced annexation more than two decades ago. It is said that there is no East Timorese family that did not lose a son, a brother or other family member in those two decades of violence. It was therefore no surprise that when President Habibie allowed a referendum under UN supervision on 30 August 1999 to decide the fate of East Timor, 98.6 per cent of voters casted their votes and 78.5 per cent opted for independence rather than to continue as Indonesia’s 27th province. East Timor is a case of a nation that was chained by the colonizer and forced to imagine itself as a part of another nation-state. The emerging nation-state saw its beloved hero Xanana Gusmao elected as the first President. Yet, on June 4, 2002, three East Timor survivors from a 1999 militia massacre refused to testify in a trial in Jakarta because of ‘concerns for their safety’. 63

62

This account is largely based on my meeting with Xanana Gusmao when he was under house arrest in Jakarta (6 September 1999). 63 Bangkok Post, 5 June 2002.


61 Thailand also has had its share of violence, the incident of 6 October 1976 being the most brutal. There was a student demonstration at Thammasat University when the students learned that former Field Marshal Thanom Kittikachorn, ‘one of the three tyrants’ ousted three years previously, had returned to Thailand as a novice to visit his ailing father on 19 September 1976. Had the former military strongman been ordained as a monk, he would have had to ask forgiveness for all his past sins, as stipulated in the ritual of Buddhist ordination. Ordained as a novice, however, he did not have to. But the students chose not to forget the violence of October 1973. Students and other people were mobilized to protest against the return, and the wheel of destiny thus turned. Two workers were killed while posting fliers announcing the gathering at Thammasat. Students from the drama club staged a play on 4 October depicting the activists’ death. The photograph of one of the students that appeared in the front page of some daily papers the next morning resembled that of a high-ranking member of the royal family. The fire of hatred could then be easily fanned, resulting in extreme violence. At dawn on that fateful day, right-wing groups, paramilitary troops, and border patrol police stormed Thammsat University and brutally killed many people. Some were burned to death, some were hung alive, corpses were mutilated, and about 2000 students and other people were arrested. The level of brutality committed in


62 broad daylight right in the center of the city was in fact unprecedented. Since the demonstrators at Thammasat University have become victims, can they forgive? If a nation is imagined because, among other things, each member feels that he or she belongs in a community with those of the same communion of his or her mind, then, following persistent exploitation, injustice and violence, such a limited imagining may not be able to hold the nation together any longer. 64 This is a case of ‘imagination deficit’ that is somewhat different from Anderson’s understanding of ‘limited imagined community’, which maintains that ‘even the largest of them…has finite, if elastic, boundaries, beyond which lie other nations’. 65 Following Habermas’s notion of ‘legitimation deficit’, ‘imagination deficit’ as used here occurs at a time when the act of imagining itself becomes close to impossible because the legitimizing system could not maintain the requisite level of mass loyalty through effective

64

Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (London and New York: Verso, 1991). 65 Ibid., p. 7. See an interesting critique of Anderson’s ‘imagined communities’ and a discussion of how imagination falters due to the limit of how open a society could be by Gopal Balakrishnan in his ‘The National Imagination’, in Gopal Balakrishnan (ed.), Mapping the Nation (London and New York: Verso, 1996), p. 211.


63 normative structures. 66 As a result, a member of that ‘imagined community’ could no longer imagine himself or herself as a meaningful part of the whole that is a nation. It is increasingly difficult to sustain a sense of belonging to that political home when there is gross injustice, brutal violence and acts of betrayal, among other things. When the imagination deficit becomes acute, the nation falls apart unless a new imagining of alternative forms of state can be mobilized. In some cases, with a new political regime, a new leadership, an alternative form of state, such as a federation, can perhaps be imagined. But some questions remain: Where is the place of forgiveness in a history plagued with violence? And who will or must forgive whom? The violence in Aceh is by and large a result of the history of betrayal which is responsible for the current imagination deficit. The violence in East Timor, in some ways, reflects the discrepancy between the promise of an imagined community that is Indonesia and the imagination deficit that was brought about by brutality and exploitation. The 6 October 1976 incident in Bangkok, on the other hand, is a case of 66

According to Habermas’ discussion of crisis in advanced capitalism, a ‘rationality deficit’ occurs when the state apparatus cannot adequately steer the economic system and a ‘legitimation deficit’ happens when it is not possible to maintain effective normative structures by administrative means. See Jurgen Habermas, Legitimation Crisis (Boston: Beacon Press, 1975), pp. 46-47.


64 unsettling memory. By that I mean the memory of that incident is plagued with brutal, shameless violence without positive outcome and hence does not fit the common self-understanding of the Thai nation as a peaceful political community, but is an aberration in modern Thai history marching along the noble road of democracy. The portrait of Southeast Asia that I have painted is thus colored with problems of history, reality and memory. These three problems I would argue, affect the shape of politics in Southeast Asia.

The Question of the Human Condition According to Hannah Arendt, there are two fundamental problems facing human beings: the past and the future. The past is irreversible while the future is uncertain and therefore unpredictable. 67 The past has happened. Its effects have been set in motion. Human beings are therefore chained by the past to the extent that little freedom remains. When one looks into the future, it seems that human beings ‘would be condemned to wander helplessly and without direction in the darkness of each man’s (sic) lonely heart, caught in its contradictions and equivocalities’. 68

67

Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition (Garden City, NY: Double Day Anchor, 1958). 68 Ibid., p. 213.


65 In other words, the problems of irreversibility and uncertainty are products of different sets of time: social time and inner time. Social time—the time of collective events and experience constructed by the technological environment, such as the clock, calendar, and international dateline, among other things—is a linear form of time that moves in a single direction and hence is irreversible. By contrast, inner time as a deeply personal and individual time is always connected to a multitude of social relations. As a result, different perceptions of time could exist together in inner experiences, which are at times marked by discontinuity and interruptions. Consequently, inner time is unpredictable. 69 The problems of irreversibility and uncertainty are engendered not only by the curse of the past and the amorphous shadow of the future, but also because the human condition itself is marked by the paradox of the simultaneous existence of inner time and social time. Arendt suggests that ‘the remedy of unpredictability, for the chaotic uncertainty of the future, is contained in the faculty to make and keep promises’, while ‘the possible redemption from the predicament of irreversibility, of being unable to undo what one has done…is the faculty of forgiving’. 70 Since 69

See the differences between inner time and social time in Alberto Melucci, ‘Inner Time and Social Time in aWorld of Uncertainty’, Time and Society, vol. 7, no. 2 (1998), pp. 182-184. 70 Arendt, The Human Condition, p. 213, 212.


66 moving forward is uncertain, some kinds of assurance will be needed to make present actions possible. A covenant or a promise works as a kind of assurance to enable humans to move from the here and the now into the future with some degree of confidence. But since the past is irreversible, the present predicament is to find a way to live with it. For Arendt, forgiveness holds the key to unlock the chain of the irreversible events that have already taken place because it allows humans to come to terms with their undesirable past. The problems of violence facing Southeast Asia discussed above are more or less connected with the irreversible past. Though the future is uncertain, there are promises or at least indications of promise. 71 In Indonesia there have been some promises that it is possible to discuss alternative forms of state as dictated by the necessity of ethnic struggles. In East Timor, the promise of a new nation has already taken shape. In Thailand, the promise of more democracy embodied in the new constitution B.E.2540, which recognizes the rights of people as never before, points towards the future course of Thai society. But these promises do not guarantee the 71

The complexity of the notion of promise is the subject of several serious studies. See for example, Charles Fried’s individualistic view of promise in his Contract as Promise (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1981). See also P. S. Atiyah, Promises, Morals and Law (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1981).


67 absence of problems, for at least two reasons. First, violent problems result from a multiplicity of causes and conditions and cannot be done away with by promises alone. Second, there is no promise that will never ever be broken or adjusted. 72 Yet roads towards a multiplicity of futures seem to be somewhat charted. It is the link with the past that needs to be reconsidered in such a way as to enable human beings to be released from the consequences of what has been done. In fact, some would argue that the genuinely radical answer to the excessiveness of violence against ‘the other’ which absolutizes the self, both individual and collective, lies in the capacity of the ‘I’ (again, both individual and collective) to open up totally to the other through forgiveness, among other things. 73 When the possibilities of action widen, people are under more pressures to make a choice. It seems that choosing becomes less associated with freedom as generally believed and more with destiny. To choose under the imperative of destiny is, in

72

For example, in the Thai case, this constitution was cancelled in the September 19, 2006 coup d’etat which has set into motion a much more complicated political situation although a new constitution of 2007 has been put in its place. 73

See for example, Sergio Cotta, Why Violence? A Philosophical Interpretation (Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1985).


68 some ways, to choose because of necessity. 74 A choice to forgive in the face of the violence across Southeast Asia discussed above, then, would not be considered from a moral perspective, but is proposed here in the language of political necessity, not unlike the dramatic transformation through public forgiveness that has taken place in modern South Africa. 75 It is therefore important to better construe forgiveness in its amazing complexity.

Understanding Forgiveness: How Does Forgiveness Work? Finding a way out of the labyrinth of violence such as that which has taken place in Southeast Asia requires us perhaps not to raise the question ‘What is forgiveness?’ but rather ‘How does forgiveness work?’ I propose to explore the way in which forgiveness works in relation to three critical issues in social science and philosophy: 74

Melucci, ‘Inner Time and Social Time in a World of Uncertainty’, p. 181. 75 Desmond Tutu argues that South Africa did not choose the trial of perpetrators of violence as in Nuremberg nor national amnesia, but chose to deal with its past through the third way of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). He points out that this third way, with a strong emphasis on forgiveness and reconciliation, has been a result of the ‘negotiated settlement’, realistic appraisal of the violent potentials of perpetrators, and the economic cost of trials, among other things. See Desmond Tutu, No Future without Forgiveness (New York: Doubleday, 1999), pp. 19-28.


69 power relations, time/memory and justice. 76 An alteration in power relations directly relates to acting in the public sphere. A sense of time and memory are inseparable from freedom to choose to act, and justice is crucial if there is a need to expand social space in the service of fairness in political life. I would argue that these three issues assume paramount importance in understanding forgiveness as public action connecting the past with the future.

Forgiveness and Power Relations The violence discussed here presupposes a victimizer and a victim. Although what constitutes a victim is not unproblematic, 77 it is 76

The analysis of forgiveness here is primarily based on my earlier works on the subject, especially my ‘The Politics of Forgiveness: Islamic Teachings and Gandhi’s Thoughts’, Gandhi Memorial Lecture, Indian Parliament, New Delhi, 21 August 1993. This essay was later published in several places, including in N. Radhakrishnan (ed.), Gandhi and Global Nonviolent Transformation (New Delhi: Gandhi Smriti and Darshan Samiti, 1994); Chaiwat Satha-Anand, The Nonviolent Crescent: Two Essays on Islam and Nonviolence (Alkmaar, The Netherlands: International Fellowship of Reconciliation, 1996); and as ‘The Politics of Forgiveness’, in Robert Herr and Judy Zimmerman Herr (eds.), Transforming Violence: Linking Local and Global Peacemaking (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1998). It is also based in part on my Abhaiwithi (The Way of Forgiveness: Friends/Enemies and the Politics of Forgiveness) (Bangkok: Pridi Bhanomyong Institute, 2000) (in Thai). 77 See a learned discussion on the problematic of victimhood in Judith N. Shklar, The Faces of Injustice


70 safe to suggest that the relationship between the two parties is a power relation in which the victim is less powerful. The quality of cruelty in rape, for example, depends on the victim’s passivity. When the victim becomes angry and fights back, the power relation shifts. This shift in power relation can take place during (for example, the attempted rape) or after the incident. Revenge, in this understanding, is an attempt to shift the power relation to transform the powerless victim into an empowered avenger. To move from passive acceptance of cruelty to the act of fighting is a move to adjust power relations. Although forgiveness is seen as the prerogative of the victim, the victim cannot forgive if he or she remains powerless. The forgiveness of a mouse in the claws of a ferocious cat would not mean very much. Meaningful forgiveness happens only when the forgiver is in a position to forgive or not to forgive his or her victimizer and the former course is chosen. In addition, forgiveness effects power relations in a more radical way than violent revenge. In becoming an avenger, the former victim assumes the position of the one who acts and his or her former victimizer turns into the victim. This poses at least two problems in power relations. First, in transforming the former victim into an avenger, violence may endow him or her (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1990), pp. 28-40.


71 with thewe-become-what-we-hate syndrome. Second, the cycle of violence will not end. Max Weber once wrote that ‘The universal experience that violence always generates violence, that violence against injustice leads in the end not to the victory of a higher justice but to a greater force and astuteness…promotes the ever radical request of the ethics of brotherhood, of never meeting evil with violence.’ 78 In forgiveness, on the contrary, the forgiver can rise above the memories of being victimized in the process of restoring wholeness, autonomy and freedom. Some political actions, such as the East Timor vote to be independent from Indonesia, are quite powerful in that they effect changes in the rules that govern existing power relations. Forgiveness, in effect, radically changes the rule that governs the power relationship between the former victimizer and his or her victim. 79

Forgiveness and Time/Memory The belief that forgiving goes hand in hand with forgetting is a misconception for two 78

Quoted in Cotta, Why Violence?, pp. 139-140. See Michael J. Shapiro, Language and Political Understanding: The Politics of Discursive Practices (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1981), p. 233. I am aware of the fact that Shapiro emphasizes the idea that ‘the constitutive effect on political life, consists in linguistic action,…that links what we say to our experience’ (p. 233, emphasis in original). But its power lies primarily in the rule-changing quality of such linguistic action. In this sense, it is not unlike forgiveness. 79


72 reasons . First, for victims of violence who have suffered the loss of body parts or loved ones at the hands of the militia in East Timor, the Tentara Nasional Indonesia: National Armed Forces of Indonesia (TNI) in Aceh or the killers at Thammasat in 1976, forgetting is extremely difficult. Second, a forgetful person cannot forgive anyone. Only those who remember can. It is memory and not forgetting which is the necessary condition of forgiveness. An amnesiac loses his or her capability to forgive precisely because he or she cannot remember. Without remembering, forgiveness as a conscious act full of intentionality is impossible. Some scholars are now advocating changing the adage from ‘forgive and forget’ to ‘remember and forgive’. 80 If memory is a prerequisite for forgiveness, then the question is: how violence could be remembered in such a way that it would be conducive to forgiveness. Forgiveness will be difficult unless the former victim is able to free himself or herself from being trapped by the memory of being victimized. To free oneself from this invisible memory cage, one must understand the nature of time as it affects the self. 81 A person’s time, or 80

Donald W. Shriver, An Ethic for Enemies: Forgiveness in Politics (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), p. 7. 81 My understanding of ‘self-time’ is based on John Berger and Jean Mohr, A Seventh Man: A Book of Images and Words about the Experiences of Migrant Workers in


73 Melucci’s inner time, is not a linear timeline that begins in the past, comes to the present and moves on into the future. A normal life would allow time, both past and future, to move freely, and some would say naturally, through the self so that the present would be meaningful. A victim of traumatic past or one-dimensional future allows his or her ‘self time’ to be frozen in either and thus creates problems with his or her present. When a widow whose imagination has been captured by bereavement sees the belongings of her dead husband, for example, her consciousness is caught in the past represented by his things because the presence of his things points to his absence. For the widow trapped in the irreversible past, the present becomes deformed, in a sense, because whatever she sees or touches will be filtered through her traumatic memory. Living in the present then is devoid of the sense of living and assumes the shape of repetition. This is because for the widow in this particular case, and victims of violence in general, when traumatic experience returns, ‘time can stand still; it can cease to pass. This may occur through a rapid blur of repeated events so fleeting that they…create the experience of immobility.’ 82

Europe (London and New York: Writers and Readers, 1982), p. 178. 82 Melucci, ‘Inner Time and Social Time’, p. 183.


74 To free oneself from one’s traumatic past is to not allow traumatic memory to be so petrified as to render normal life in the present impossible, both for the individual and the collective. Since the past should not be forgotten, lest forgiveness becomes meaningless, it should be remembered as a part of the natural flow of inner time, allowing it to shape and be shaped by the present.

Forgiveness and Justice Some believe that although forgiving is divine, it is not just. Can forgiveness without justice be meaningful? Is forgiveness without justice really meaningless? Can justice itself become a hindrance to forgiveness? Instead of probing into the complex philosophical discourse on justice, whose meanings are not unproblematic, I will discuss the relationship between justice and forgiveness through two artistic representations of injustice. In a painting by Ambrogio Lorenzetti, injustice in the form of a devil simply destroys justice by breaking the scales of justice, tearing the blindfold from her eyes, and beating her up. 83 In forgiving, is the balancing nature of justice compromised? Equality of treatment disrupted? Or Justice herself harmed? The third question, the ‘beating of justice’ as depicted in Lorenzetti’s 83

See Quentin Skinner, ‘Ambrogio Lorenzenti: The Artist as Political Philosopher’, Raleigh Lecture, Proceedings of the British Academy, 72 (1986), quoted in Shklar, The Faces of Injustice, p. 17.


75 painting, depends on how the first two questions are answered. I would argue, with Aristotle, that retributive justice is but a form of justice and that the concept that justice should be blind is closely related to justice administered by the state in the form of the equality of all citizens before the law. What if justice is practiced outside the sovereignty of the law? The second painting is Giotto’s Ingiustizia in Cappella Scrovegni in Padua. Injustice is in the center of an array of other vices, replacing the sin of pride. It appears in the form of a male profile that looks to the right at that part of the Last Judgment which depicts the horrors of hell. The face of Injustice is cold horrors of hell. The face of Injustice is cold and cruel with small, fanglike teeth at the sides of the mouth. He wears a judge’s or ruler’s cap backward. In his hand, there is a nasty pruning hook. Some of the trees that surround him are rooted in the soil beneath his feet where crime flourishes. Around him is a gate in ruin, but under him a theft, a rape and a murder are going on while two soldiers watch and do nothing, and neither does the ruler. 84 Besides the obvious (e.g. Injustice is male, cruel, animal-like and turns his back on the law), the most interesting representation of injustice in Giotto’s painting is passivity. It follows that if forgiveness implies passivity, forgiveness is unjust. But it is action, not passivity, that 84

This description of the painting is from Shklar, The Faces of Injustice, p. 46.


76 characterizes the notion of forgiveness discussed here. Without doing something about the tyranny of violent situations, the person cannot forgive because he or she remains the victim. In this sense, forgiveness is not antithetical to justice. It could be argued that in forgiving, a new type of justice might emerge. Justice in terms of Aristotle’s equality may not present itself at the exact time when forgiveness takes place. Yet in forgiving the victimizer, through the radical alteration of power relations and the freedom gained from refusing to be trapped within the memory cage of the past, one brings a social space into being. This social space is both open ended and future oriented. Its open-endedness may be conducive to fairer arrangements of power relations, while its future-orientedness may help clarify the covenants that would chart the futures with some level of humanized certitude. This is the type of justice that I would call ‘transformative justice’. Forgiveness, then, could be seen as a necessary condition to break free from the irreversibility of the past. Preceded by actions in public life to first equalize power relations, the ways it works, once lively time/memory is restored to replace the petrified past, could expand the space of politics in such a way that transformative justice that is both open ended and future oriented becomes possible. But is forgiveness possible in today’s world in general


77 and amidst the violence endangering Southeast Asia in particular?

Sacred Justifications for Forgiveness Forgiveness is possible not only because it is necessary politically but because sacred justifications exist for it. The cases of violence in Southeast Asia discussed here involve collective forgiveness rather than individual acts. What is possible at the personal level may not necessarily be possible at the collective level as well. But if religious beliefs still matter for people in societies influenced by traditional practices, including those in Aceh, East Timor and a large part of Thailand, then forgiveness that would be attractive to them should be grounded in some kind of popularly acceptable justification, such as narratives from the life stories of the Prophet Muhammad, Jesus and the Buddha. Since these personalities are sacred in Islam, Christianity and Buddhism, respectively, these narratives in support of forgiveness could be seen as sacred justifications. Prophet Muhammad The Divine Message was first revealed to the Prophet when he was 40. After some time the powerful in Mecca felt that his message was a threat and tried to dissuade him from preaching. Many of his followers were persecuted. Some were tortured and killed. In 622, when he was 53, the Prophet led the Muslims in an exodus from


78 Mecca to Madina, known as the Hijrah. After eight years of struggles and battles with the Meccans, he led an army of 10,000 men back to Mecca. The Meccans who had wronged the Muslims in the past were afraid of revenge. But once he entered the city of Mecca, the Prophet addressed the people waiting not far from the Ka’ba. He asked, ‘What say ye, and what think ye?’ They answered, ‘We say well and we think well: a noble and generous brother, son of a noble and generous brother. It is thine to command.’ He then spoke to them in the words that, according to the Qur’an, 85 were Joseph’s when he forgave his brothers who came to seek his help in Egypt. 86 He said, ‘Verily I say as my 85

The Qur’an used throughout this essay is The Glorious Qur’an, trans. and commentary by A. Yusuf Ali (USA: Muslim Students’ Association of the United States and Canada, 1977). It should be noted that Yusuf Ali cautions that three words are used in the Qur’an with a meaning close to ‘forgiveness’. They are Afa, which connotes forgetting; Safaha, which means to turn away from or to treat a matter as if it did not affect one; and Gafara, which is an attribute of God. See p. 47, n. 110. 86 Joseph, son of Jacob, was envied by his ten brothers. They threw him down the well and told their father that he was devoured by a wolf. Joseph was rescued and later became a trusted nobleman who saved Egypt from seven years of famine by correctly interpreting the Pharaoh’s dream. When his brothers came to seek his help, they confessed their crime and he forgave them all. See Qur’an,


79 brother Joseph said: This day let no reproach be (cast) on you. God will forgive you, And He is the Most Merciful of those who show mercy.’ 87 It is clear that the single most important value that can be identified from the Prophet’s action at the time of his conquest of Mecca is his act of forgiving the Meccans who once victimized him and his followers. This action was not merely a political expedient, because it follows an established pattern of conduct. Al-Gazzali recounted that once a man raised a sword over the Prophet’s head and asked who would protect him. Prophet Muhammad answered, ‘God.’ The sword fell from the man’s hand and the Prophet picked it up. He then asked the man to bear witness that there is no deity but God and that Muhammad is his messenger. The man said, ‘I have got no envy against you, I shall not kill you. I shall not go with you and I shall not join those who fight against you.’ Then the Prophet set him free. 88

12 : 8-93. Compare this with the story of Joseph as told in Genesis, 38-50. See The New Jerusalem Bible (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1985), pp. 62-80. 87 Qur’an, 12 : 92. See the details of the Prophet’s return to Mecca in Martin Lings, Muhammad: His Life Based on the Earliest Sources (Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions International, 1983), pp. 297-303. 88 Al-Gazzali, Ihya Ulum-id-Din, trans. Maulana Fazul-ulKarim (Lahore: Sind Sagar Academy, n.d.), Book 2, p. 271.


80 In another case, a Jew mixed poison in the food of the Prophet at Khaiber. When the woman was caught, she said, ‘I intended to kill you.’ The Prophet responded, ‘God will not give you that power.’ His companions then asked for permission to kill her. He again forgave her and told them, ‘Don’t kill her’. 89 His pattern of conduct was a manifestation of the teachings in God’s revelation. It is stipulated in the Qur’an that it is the Muslims’ duty to forgive even when they are angry. 90 In a clear textual justification for forgiveness, the Qur’an states that: The recompense for an injury Is an injury equal thereto (In degree): but if a person Forgives and makes reconciliation, His reward is due From God: for (God) Loveth not those who Do wrong. 91 It follows from this verse that forgiveness and reconciliation are the correct things to do in a situation of conflict. Moreover, since forgiveness is a value clearly advocated in the Qur’an, and 89

Ibid. Qur’an, 42 : 37. 91 Qur’an, 42 : 40. 90


81 the Prophet’s action is usually considered an example that Muslims should try to follow, this means that Islam believes that human beings in general are capable of undertaking forgiveness. Forgiveness is the remedy against the irreversibility of past actions. As a process between two conflicting parties, forgiveness becomes an act of mutual liberation to both the forgiving and the forgiven. It serves to alter social relations so that peace in the future becomes possible. 92 The Prophet’s act of forgiving the Quraysh tribe of Mecca who once persecuted him and the Muslims follows the logic of forgiveness discussed above. First, he fought back and won. Before forgiving, he was no longer a victim of the Meccans. In forgiving, he moved his power relationship with them to a new level. The case of Joseph shows that he (Joseph and therefore Muhammad) was free from the past traumatic experience done to him by the former victimizers, Joseph’s brothers and Muhammad’s tribe of Quraysh. In setting them and his failed assassin free, he was able to create a political space where the community would transform

92

This part of the paper is drawn from Chaiwat SathaAnand, ‘Core Values for Peacemaking in Islam: The Prophet’s Practice as Paradigm’, in Elise Boulding (ed.), Building Peace in the Middle East: Challenges for States and Civil Society (Boulder and London: Lynne Rienner, 1994), pp. 298-299.


82 together with a changing understanding of the meaning of justice. Jesus Towards its end, the Gospel according to Luke states, ‘When they reached the place called the Skull, there they crucified him and the two criminals, one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing.”’ 93 There are at least three important points that can be derived from this story of Jesus on the cross. First, the Jesus who asked God to forgive others, the wrongdoers, was the suffering Jesus who had been victimized. The request for forgiveness came from the victim himself. But when he forgave them, the power relations changed and he was no longer the victim. In asking Abba, he affirmed his status as the Son. The victim Jesus might not be able to forgive, but Jesus as the Son certainly could. Second, the people who sinned, in this case those who tried to kill him, did it out of ignorance and therefore deserved God’s forgiveness. The question is, had they known what they had been doing, would 93

Luke, 23 : 33-34, in The New Jerusalem Bible, p. 1730. It is interesting to note that ‘some good and diverse ancient authorities’ omitted this verse. See The New Jerusalem Bible, p. 1731, n. j. For a discussion of the difference between Luke’s Gospel and the other Gospel, see Elaine Pagels, The Origin of Satan (New York: Vintage, 1996), pp. 89-111.


83 Jesus ask for their forgiveness? Or even if he did ask, would they be eligible for forgiveness? Third, from a theological perspective, the history of Christianity is a history of salvation when Jesus is accepted as the Redeemer. The meaning of Jesus as the Redeemer can be realized when forgiveness is activated and sinners become Christians. In this understanding, despite the doctrine of original sin, a human life in Christianity is not a lost cause because there exists the possibility for redemption. Buddha There are two styles of Buddha image which are relevant to the present discussion. They are commonly called Pang Prathan Abhai (literally: ‘the Style of Giving Forgiveness’ or ‘the Forgiving Buddha’). 94 The first style is a

94

Information on the Forgiving Buddha is from Phra Dhammkosacharn Anujaree, Legends of Styles of Buddha Images (Bangkok: Prapaston, 1962), pp. 195-207; Poj Poonsawasdi, History of Different Styles of Buddha Images (Bangkok: Thai Ngarm Printing House, 1964), pp. 47-48. It is interesting to note that in Sompong Yupothi, Different Styles of Buddha Image (Bangkok: Fine Arts Department, 1972), the author wrote that he did not find anything about the Forgiving Buddha in the life of the Buddha. However, he explained that the Forgiving Buddha is a standing Buddha with both palms raised, one palm turned outward at chest level similar to Parng Harm Samut (literally: ‘the Buddha image in the style of ocean pacifying’), the other dropped by his side as in Parng Harm Yart (literally: ‘the Buddha image in the style of pacifying his quarreling


84 standing Buddha with two palms at chest level, both palms extended forward. But the one that corresponds well with the life of the Buddha according to the canon is a sitting Buddha image with both palms facing each other at chest level, extended forward a little. This Buddha image corresponds to the episode when the Buddha forgave Ajatasattu, King of Magadha, who assumed power after he committed patricide by casting his father into a foul prison and refusing him food. Later, Ajatasattu became close to the monk Devadatta, Buddha’s nemesis, and loaned him a group of soldiers to kill the Buddha. 95 Ajatasattu’s only meeting with the Buddha came one full moon night of the month of Kattika (October-November) at a time when the Buddha’s life was approaching its last days. The king asked, ‘Is there any fruit of the life of a wandering mendicant to be gained in this very life?’ The Buddha replied in the affirmative. The conversation ended with Ajatasattu’s repentance of having murdered his father. He said, ‘Transgression overcame me, Lord, in that in folly, stupidity, and wickedness, for the sake of lordship I deprived my righteous father, the righteous king, of life. May the lord accept my transgression as transgression that I may be relatives’). See page 96, with pictures on page 97. All these books are in Thai. 95 W.W. Schuman, The Historical Buddha: The Times, Life and Teachings of the Founder of Buddhism, trans. M. O’C. Walshe (London: Arkana, 1989), p. 235.


85 restrained in the future.’ The Buddha accepted his confession. 96 But after Ajatasattu’s departure, the Buddha mentioned that due to his sin, Ajatasattu was not able to see the Dhamma at that meeting. 97 Another example concerns his nemesis, Devadatta, who authored the first schism in Buddhism with his more ascetic doctrine, including strict vegetarianism, among other things. Devadatta publicly attempted to unseat the Buddha from his position as the leader of the Order with these words: ‘Lord, you are now old, worn-out, an aged man, you have lived your allotted span and are at the end of your existence. Lord, may you be content to live in this world henceforth unburdened. Hand over the Order to me—I will lead the Sangha!’ The Buddha declined and when Devadatta repeated his plea for the third time, the Master replied, ‘I would not even hand over the

96

Edward J. Thomas, The Life of Buddha as Legend and History (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975), p. 138. It is interesting to note that Thomas did not complete the story of Ajatasattu’s confession in the text. The part when the Buddha accepted his confession appears in a footnote (p. 138, n. 2). Thomas also added that it appears as though Ajatasattu was let off ‘far too easily’. 97 Thomas, The Life of Buddha as Legend and History, p. 138. There is nothing on this in Schumann, The Historical Buddha.


86 Order to Sariputta and Moggallana, still less to you, Devadatta, a common lickspittle!’ 98 Devadatta latter planned to kill the Buddha, first by using soldiers on loan from Ajatasattu to shoot at the Buddha with arrows, then by rolling a huge stone from the Vultures’ Peak, injuring the Buddha’s foot in this attempt. Lastly, he sent the elephant Nalagiri to kill the Buddha. But the elephant yielded to the Buddha’s compassion. 99 At the end of his life, Devadatta desired to see the Buddha, but the Master said it would not be possible in this life. He was finally swallowed by the earth down to Avici hell. The Buddha declared that after 100,000 cycles he would be reborn as a pacceka-buddha (enlightened one who does not preach to others) named-Atthissare. 100 The case of the Forgiving Buddha is different from other sacred narratives. In forgiving Ajatasattu, the Buddha was not his 98

Schumann, The Historical Buddha, p. 234. Schumann, The Historical Buddha, pp. 235-236; see also H. Saddhatissa, The Life of the Buddha (New York: Harper & Row, 1976), p. 58. Thomas, The Life of Buddha as Legend and History, pp. 133-134. 100 Thomas, The Life of Buddha as Legend and History, p. 135. But Schumann (The Historical Buddha, p. 238) does not mention the suffering in hell for 100,000 cycles, and Saddhatissa (The Life of the Buddha, p. 59) writes that when Devadatta came to see the Buddha, the Master received him back into the Sangha. This is contrary to common knowledge about Devadatta, however. 99


87 victim. Although the king was a conspirator with Devadatta in trying to take his life, the Buddha forgave Ajatasattu for his sin against his father. The Buddha’s superior power relation as the Enlightened One over the king was evident but a question can be raised: on what authority did he forgive the king? In the case of his relationship with Devadatta, who tried to kill him, he was certainly a victim, yet there was no forgiveness. It seems to me that forgiveness is not clearly present in Buddhism compared with the other two sacred stories. In Buddhism it is more difficult to forgive than in Islam or Christianity. This surprising conclusion needs to be further examined. It could be explained by suggesting the notion that forgiveness is a concept imported from the Occident, or JudeoChristian-Islamic tradition and therefore it does not apply in Buddhism. But, since a narrative on forgiveness does exist in Buddhist scripture and this particular Buddha image depicting forgiveness does exist in social reality, a better explanation of the comparative difficulty of forgiveness among these three major religions is needed. The modern cases discussed above began chronologically with Aceh, followed by East Timor and ended with the Thai case. Sacred justifications were then examined beginning with Islam, followed by Christianity and lastly Buddhism. I would argue that this ordering corresponds to the degree of facility/difficulty in


88 trying to justify forgiveness with sacred narratives. In other words, it is easier for a Muslim to forgive precisely because, as a believer, he or she is taught to follow the example of the Prophet as elucidated in the Hadith (Traditions of the Prophet). The case of the Prophet’s return to Mecca is clearly political, an act of forgiveness by the Prophet who is also a victorious political leader. The political quality of forgiveness is thus crystallized. Forgiveness in politics by Muslims is therefore not difficult to imagine. In the narrative of Jesus on the cross, although forgiveness is clearly a virtue, commonly advocated in Christianity, a difficulty arises because of the divinized nature of Jesus. If forgiveness is the prerogative of the divine, to what extent will it apply to ordinary humans? Although Jesus’ death on the cross gave birth to forgiveness as a concept, this new concept is primarily spiritual with political implications and not vice versa. In Buddhism, it is more difficult to forgive because an individual’s or collective karma is governed not by human intentionality but rather by the cosmic order of actions and their effects. As the Enlightened One whose existence was in tune with the cosmic order, the Buddha could forgive Ajatasattu. But precisely as the Enlightened One or Tatakhata (Thusness), he is beyond victimhood. Devadatta’s act no longer concerned him as a person. In the narrative, Devadatta was not successful in meeting him and therefore the question did not arise. The narrative showed that it was difficult for Devadatta to meet


89 the Master. In fact, it could be argued that forgiveness did not take place in this case, since Devadatta was dramatically swallowed by the earth before he could meet the Buddha. In the everyday life of Buddhists, there are primarily two occasions when forgiveness is called for: before a person becomes a monk and before his or her death. Both are cases of complete life transformation: leaving the old life and moving into the new one, monkhood with a completely different set of life-governing rules, and death with its own mystery. All this points to the degree to which forgiveness is more difficult among Buddhists. But then it is not impossible. The existence of the Forgiving Buddha, shrouded in the mystery of Buddhist legends, could still be seen as a sacred justification for forgiveness among many people who believe the popular understanding.

Forgiveness as Political Necessity with Sacred Justification What exactly is forgiveness? Political necessity or sacred justification? This question is somewhat misleading because it assumes that the answer is either one or the other. Forgiveness could be both. The question, however, is whether sacredness is still needed in this world. Sacredness in the sense of becoming something else in a world full of heterogeneity where humans experience all kinds of interruptions, yet continue to remain human, to be lodged in the


90 existing cosmic environment, then the sense of the sacred is needed to justify the human break with an existing impasse, political or otherwise. The political necessity of forgiveness could be outlined, understood and perhaps agreed upon. The complexity of the dynamics of forgiveness could be analyzed, criticized and even disagreed with. But to make it work in the minds of the people whose lives are shaped by religious beliefs, forgiveness in politics has to become something else beyond the politics of the profane. In reaching deep into the relevant cosmic milieus, represented by religious doctrines, beliefs, practices or images, the politics of forgiveness in Southeast Asia could necessarily be touched, enriched, and perhaps further problematized by sacred justifications.